


"It's The Third Star, Merlin."

by NotFlyingWithOtters



Category: Merlin (TV), Third Star (2010)
Genre: M/M, Why Erin why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotFlyingWithOtters/pseuds/NotFlyingWithOtters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Arthur?” It’s Merlin, his fingertips lightly brushing my shoulder as he tries to rouse me. I’m not dead yet. I whisper inside my head, but to him I turn and smile, anything to make those blue eyes gain some of their light.</p><p>Since I was diagnosed he hasn’t smiled properly, his eyes are dull. Sometimes it’s like he’s dying and I’m not, maybe in a way he thinks that if he takes the news hard then he can bargain with the universe and keep me here. I’m sorry it doesn’t work that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

“Arthur?” It’s Merlin, his fingertips lightly brushing my shoulder as he tries to rouse me. _I’m not dead yet._ I whisper inside my head, but to him I turn and smile, anything to make those blue eyes gain some of their light.

Since I was diagnosed he hasn’t smiled properly, his eyes are dull. Sometimes it’s like he’s dying and I’m not, maybe in a way he thinks that if he takes the news hard then he can bargain with the universe and keep me here. I’m sorry it doesn’t work that way.

Merlin’s been my friend since we were five. His dad was a writer, my dad a lawyer. I think my father tried to sue cancer when he found out I was dying. He cries when he thinks I’m not looking; it’s strange seeing as he’s never been one to tell me he’s proud of me, but now that I’m leaving him alone he’s desperate to mend bridges. I hold no grudges with him, there’s no point when you’ve got less than a year to live.

I’m twenty nine today, and I won’t see thirty. And I’m okay with that – it’s just that the others aren’t.

My sister, Morgana… My father never really counted her, and now she has to be the one that carries on – because I can’t. I think I fixed their relationship by getting sick, silver linings I presume.

It’s my birthday today, and later my friends, Leon, Gwaine, Percival and Merlin are taking me to my favourite place. Avalon. We used to go there when we were younger, in university it was the place where we would go in all our term breaks. There are good memories there, of better times. And I’d like to see it one more time before I die.

Merlin’s taking this the hardest, he puts on a brave face but he’s the one that takes me to hospital, and he was there when they told me that the treatment wasn’t working and I was going to die. I’d never seen him cry until then. Merlin has always been… my best friend. Leaving him is what hurts me the most.

“How are you?” Bless him, his main concern is always me, it always has been. He means _‘How much pain are you in? Do you need medication?’_ He always does. Today is a good day cancer wise, so I smile and sit up and let him care for me. It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s just that he needs to be needed; sometimes I think that caring unconditionally is in his DNA.

“I’m fine, Merlin.” And there’s that slight smile again, a mere quirk of the lips in my direction that lets me know he believes me.  He always knows if I’m lying, and I don’t need to see his face to know that.

“Are you ready for today?” Today, the day we head off to Avalon. My birthday.

“Of course.” His weak smile is all I ever know now. I don’t remember what he looks like with a proper smile. It’s not just me that’s dying, it’s part of him too – all of them really. I never knew I could make such a large impression on people, it was always my father.

“They’re waiting for you.” _Not much longer of that._ I whisper in my head as we walk down the stairs, Merlin making sure I don’t fall, in case my leg gives out today. It’s happening now with frightening frequency. I can feel part of me dying with every day that goes by, and I wonder if sometimes Merlin can feel it, because some days he just gets this really sad look on his face and I wonder if he’s seen the inside of my head. Maybe he has. He could always get under my skin.

My sister’s been crying. I see it the moment I leave my room, her red rimmed eyes and pale face. I feel bad for her, we were never really close until I found out I was dying. So much time we’ve lost and now we can’t fix it. I think that’s my only regret. I think it’s hers too.

I can feel Merlin’s hand on my arm now, and I follow him down the stairs to where the small group of family and friends are waiting; it’s my last birthday and they’ve made an effort. I cry a little because I’ll never get this, but mostly because I can see through the masks they’re wearing. It’s hurting them. More than it could ever hurt me. I want to tell them I’m sorry, that this is just one massive cosmic joke and that I’ll be fine. But the resigned look on Merlin’s face, the new lines etched there by my illness prove to me that it’s real.

It’s over quickly. Morgana gives me a long hug, whispers that she loves me, and then whirls away with her boyfriend Mordred. He used to be my friend before all of this. I guess he got tired of me. Gwen sobs into my shoulder for five minutes before regaining herself. We go far back, we grew up together. This is as hard on her as it is on my parents, I see that now.

And then my friends and my father cluster around the SUV that’s going to take me and my four friends to the spot where we begin our two day journey to Avalon, and I can see in his face that my father doesn’t want me to go. My mother died when I was born, because of me. And now Uther will lose me too.

He’s had a hard life, and it’s warped him into a hard man. I don’t blame him. In fact, I understand. He’s losing everything and he has to keep a brave face, because everyone thinks that he’s strong. He’s not. I heard him crying two days ago.

But we hug and he doesn’t want to let me go, I can feel it. And when he does his eyes are watery and there’s a slight downturn to his lips. I want to bury myself in his chest and take up residence, because he needs me to be okay. He couldn’t save my mother and now he can’t save me. I can see it reflected on his face.

“I’m sorry.”  I mouth to him as I climb into the car, Merlin at my side as he has been for the past three years. He nods stiffly.

“I know.”


	2. Of Pasts And Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The others act normal around me, and really, that’s what I want. I want them to remember me not as someone who faded away, but as someone who took their shit until it was over. I’m glad Gwaine still calls me a poncy posh twat, and that Leon gives me one of those dry smiles if I say something he likes. That Percival still punches me in the shoulder when I make him laugh.

We, the group, arrive at the first waypoint by the evening. I’d slept, head on Merlin’s shoulder, for most of the journey. It seems strange that others insisted on staying here, when really we had to get to Avalon within three days. But I’m glad they made us wait, despite the liquid morphine I’d been drinking in little bits during the parts where I was awake – Merlin noticing but saying nothing to the others – I’m in a little pain. Excusing myself, I walk behind them towards the first place where we’ve arranged to camp.

It’s a long walk, and by the time it’s over I grab Merlin’s arm and he hands me the bottle with no questions or even pity. It’s our routine now and we stick to it like glue. It’s the first night with us together again, and for a moment I can forget that I’m dying and just enjoy it.

Leon is his old self, all quiet words and wisdom and not for the first time I wonder how someone as young as him can seem so old. But then I look at Merlin and I think that I can understand it. Merlin’s eyes are as old as time to me now. Leon and he have aged, but in different ways. Leon has become wiser and stronger and a lot braver – he’s lecturing at Cambridge university now, so he tells me – but Merlin has… shrunk.

Gwaine and Percival are drinking, I smile and lean back against the rocks behind as I feel Merlin’s leg press against mine. They’re talking about the old days and old flames – how many we’ve all had. Except Merlin.

People often wonder how he came to be in our circle, but we don’t really know either. It wouldn’t be the same without him though, no matter how different he is to Percival, Gwaine, Leon and I. Merlin just fits, like the puzzle piece we hadn’t known we needed to make us complete. He’s as much a part of us as any of the rest of us.

A jolt of pain runs up my side and I’m reminded suddenly of my own mortality, and imminent demise. I don’t say anything to Merlin, I don’t need to.

Somewhere along the line we wound up holding hands. I don’t mind though, and I don’t think he does either. The others either haven’t noticed or don’t care; I think it’s a mixture of the two.

I fall asleep on his shoulder and when I wake up he’s by my side in the tent.

Mornings are the worse.

“Merlin.” The first word that passes my lips in the instant of waking is always tinged with panic because the pain is so strong, so fresh, a full eight hours of pain that suddenly demands to be felt. His hands skim across my side as he retrieves the truly heroic number of pills I have to take before I even feel human anymore and then those same hands are helping me sit, pouring pills into my hands and offering me a bottle of water.

Today his hands shake. His whole body shakes in fact, but I can feel it in his hands.

“Arthur.” He responds mechanically, knowing that I need to be reminded that I’m alive, that he can see me. I have this stupid fear of dying and not knowing it. Once, during a particularly bad round of ultimately ineffective chemotherapy, I spilled this secret to Merlin and he gave a stiff nod. Now we speak to each other in the mornings. Me to remind him that I need him, and him to remind me that I’m real.

It takes ten minutes for the first drug to kick in, and then, slowly, I can begin to breathe again. Merlin never leaves my side and I’m grateful to him for that.

The others act normal around me, and really, that’s what I want. I want them to remember me not as someone who faded away, but as someone who took their shit until it was over. I’m glad Gwaine still calls me a poncy posh twat, and that Leon gives me one of those dry smiles if I say something he likes. That Percival still punches me in the shoulder when I make him laugh.

I’ll miss all these things and more. More than they can ever know.

Merlin’s the only one who treats me any different, but if it was going to be anyone, I’m glad it’s him. Really. Merlin is the kind of person you overlook. Subservient, someone described him to me once. And though it pains me to admit it, it’s true. Merlin acts servile – at least he did until my illness.

Now we seem to operate on the same wavelength, we have more in common to talk about and we do talk about it instead of him never bringing it up and worrying about insulting me. I know that in the future he won’t admit to the nights we spent sat on my bed in the early stages, talking about our families and our dreams. And I won’t be there to rebut him, so those secrets will go to the grave with him.

“Arthur, you cripple, come on we’re leaving!” Gwaine’s smug face and bright smile shatter this thought and I smile, because it’s Gwaine and his insults are a sign of love.

“Alright, you beast, I’m coming.” Merlin is on hand and he helps me up, our fingers brushing slightly. I don’t let go – I feel that I can take liberties in my last few days. He doesn’t let go either.

Percival shoulders the bags and bumps shoulders with Gwaine as they walk ahead, Leon walking beside them with a map and compass, occasionally checking that we’re going in the right direction.

I stay with Merlin like he’s my anchor, and in some sick way he is; he has the drugs I need to get through the day, he has the eyes that I never want to see sad. Merlin is a part of my life, as intrinsic as the souls I didn’t believe in until now, until I read Merlin’s soul through his eyes.

We head west towards the forest, the hardest part even when I was healthy. I squeeze Merlin’s hand as we step under the green canopy, sunlight splitting into shards and glittering around us as a lazy breeze brushes past.

Almost imperceptibly, he squeezes back.


	3. Always Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t get far, but he lets me go, watching me from his position on the rock. I lean against the tree next to me and stare into the dense tangle in front of me, a wall of vegetation that threatens to encroach on my delicate psyche. I link the swirls of the leaves with the soup that are my thoughts. I can still feel Merlin’s eyes on me and I stay still for several long minutes, just breathing in and out slowly, delicately. I count my heartbeats and wonder how long I have left.

The forest is, as predicted, hard going. Even when I was fit and healthy it was difficult. The serene appearance deceives me and finds things for me to fall over, get tangled in, slow rising slops give way to steep cliffs that even in healthier days I couldn’t have hoped to climb. When I fall the other stop and come back to help me. _I’m not dead_ I scream at them silently, accepting their help _not yet_.

They don’t really understand that through this all the only person that’s made me feel even a sliver of normal is Merlin. He doesn’t treat me different, if I fall he calls me a dollop head and makes me stand up on my own, testing me strength.

It’s all an act, but it’s one I’m grateful for. If I fell and couldn’t stand on my own, I know he would help. But I’m thankful for this, for these shreds of normality. When we find the trail again, Leon having got us lost for over an hour in the woods, the going becomes easier. We stop for an hour for lunch that I don’t eat beside a stream that runs down from the top of the hill (it’s not a mountain no matter how much Percival insists it is) and I dip my fingertips in the icy cascade. It makes me believe that I’m not dying, I’m not sick, this is just another of our trips here like we used to. But Merlin’s hand slips into mine when he’s finished eating and I know that it’s not the same; that it can’t be. But still, I am grateful for this small comfort he offers me, the gentle squeeze that reminds me he’s there when I can’t draw a breath properly after a steep slope.

“We’ll set up camp just before we should exit the forest.” Gwaine’s voice shatters my thoughts and inside my head I’m screaming at him, telling him that we should make camp further on.

“I had a plan.” I whisper to myself, but I know that Merlin heard. He wasn’t meant to. We carry on walking, and I’m glad Gwaine told us to stop here, because I’m tired now, my legs ache and it’s difficult to control the pounding behind my eyes. I sit on a rock and watch, in all my uselessness, as they set up the tents around the small campfire that Percival has made.

Leon checks the weather report on his phone and Gwaine sets about gathering firewood, that devilish grin that I know so well gracing his face again. It’s the same roles we’ve always had, but the banter is gone. It passes for normal but if you look too closely you’ll see the cracks – and they all radiate from me. I feel that weight, that guilt, settle in my stomach and I sigh, fingernails digging into the warm skin of my wrists.

Merlin’s fingers on mine make me look up and I shake my head as he tries to speak. _I’m fine._ He looks me over once with those blue eyes, reading into my soul, his hand resting on my wrist as he does so. I avert my gaze but I can’t help leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his side pressed against mine.

“Are you alright?” He asks me softly, and I nod. I don’t really want to speak. Sometimes I think if Merlin wasn’t around, I wouldn’t speak at all, I’d just remain silent until I faded out of being. His hand slides over mine again and suddenly I don’t want it, I want to be alone. I pull away and stand up, walking away from him.

I don’t get far, but he lets me go, watching me from his position on the rock. I lean against the tree next to me and stare into the dense tangle in front of me, a wall of vegetation that threatens to encroach on my delicate psyche. I link the swirls of the leaves with the soup that are my thoughts. I can still feel Merlin’s eyes on me and I stay still for several long minutes, just breathing in and out slowly, delicately. I count my heartbeats and wonder how long I have left.

* * *

 

Dinner is normal and I’m thankful, but Merlin isn’t by my side as usual, he’s sat next to Gwaine and trying his hardest not to look at me. As the fire sinks lower and lower I draw back and watch them. Percival and Gwaine wrestle on the soft leaf litter as Leon tries his hardest not to laugh. Merlin sits away from them, his face cast in the shadows of the moonlight.

Angry at myself for my behaviour, I walk towards him and sit by his side, playing with a thread on my jeans as I watch him, the way I used to when we fought in our youth. He speaks softly now, and I hear it and I understand suddenly why he’s been so quiet, so reserved.

“I love you.” The edge of resignation is there, as it is in my father’s and in my own voice when I do speak. Mostly I pretend it hurts too much. “I know, it’s stupid. You’ve been teasing me about being gay since we were ten and now… I love you.” He exhales slowly, as if trying to ground himself. “I have for a while but now you’re dying I decide to tell you.” He gives a soft laugh, bitter even to my usually oblivious ears. “Why do you think I stayed with you all that time, held your hand during chemotherapy and spent nights by your bed.” He runs a hand over his face. “Because I love you. And this? This hurts me so much. I won’t complain though at least I’ve told you now.” My heart seems to still and I push a hand against my chest. _Not yet. Please not yet._ I whisper to my tired body, needing to tell Merlin that maybe I feel the same but I’ve been too frightened to tell him.

He walks away from my silence as I wait for my heart to restart a normal rhythm. I lost my chance.

When the others are asleep, I wake up and in the darkness I walk away from them to throw up. Time is creeping closer to me, overtaking me. As I lose control of my stomach Merlin places a hand on my back. _When did he get there?_ I turn and in the cover of the darkness I take his hand.

“Me too.” I whisper, voice hoarse from lack of use. Understanding flickers, followed by a resignation that it’s all for nothing. Despite this, I lean forwards and kiss him softly before pulling away. “I’m sorry.” I whisper to him as Percival rolls over in his sleep and stops snoring for a minute.

He nods once, tears glittering, highlighted by the moonlight.

“I know.” He kisses me again, gentle and light, and then leads me back to the camp where I fall asleep in his arms.


	4. Afraid Of Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you scared of dying?” He asks me, and it’s like I’ve stepped off a cliff. No one’s asked me this since I was diagnosed, no one’s wanted to face up to the reality of the fact that I’m going to be dead and gone before this year is out.

Nothing changes when we wake, it’s the calm before the storm. Percival and Gwaine pack up whilst Leon helps us to reorientate ourselves and work out where we need to go. Merlin gives me my medication, this time with a small smile and a kiss to the corner of my mouth when I’ve finished swallowing down the pills. I watch as he packs up the medication carefully, turning and offering me a smile when he’s done. He helps the others as I watch, and I itch for a cigarette.

“Come on, poncy twat!” Gwaine yells at me, throwing my coat towards me. I catch it and find myself laughing, because I’ll miss this. It seems strange that I’ll miss this, because I don’t know what’s there for me when I heave my final breath. But I will miss the banter and the friends who are more like family to me now. Percival and Gwaine rugby tackle me from both sides and lift me up, dangling me over Percival’s broad shoulder.

“You were too slow.” He says by way of explanation, and I give a breathless laugh, staring at the ground beneath Percival’s feet and the broad swell of his back. I can feel Merlin’s eyes on me this entire time, watching me just in case I look like I’m going to break.

He treats me like I’m made of china, and the others treat me, at least for now, like the annoying rich prat that I am. Gwaine is laughing at something is saying to him, his head tipped back and hair glinting in the sunlight. Not for the first time I notice how aesthetically pleasing he is, and that for a long time people expected he and I to be lovers. He’s not gay though, and I suppose I’m not either. Merlin is, and I’m not, and yet… My head hurts, so I slither off of Percival’s shoulders and take a sip of morphine from the bottle Merlin’s carrying in his bag.

“Wasn’t expecting you to walk.” There’s a slight smirk on his face, very tiny, and I want to kiss it back on. I want to make him smile again even if it’s only for a few moments.

“Percival’s shoulders are uncomfortable.” I reply and slide my freezing hand into his warm one. Immediately, his fingers begin to rub circles on my skin and warm it up, stimulating my poor circulation for a few minutes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” And as we walk, everything seems normal. I press my shoulder against his and we walk along the path, kicking up a trail of hazy dust behind us. It hasn’t rained here for a week, and the ground is dry, the stream barely a trickle as it sluggishly flows beside us. “Are you scared of dying?” He asks me, and it’s like I’ve stepped off a cliff. No one’s asked me this since I was diagnosed, no one’s wanted to face up to the reality of the fact that I’m going to be dead and gone before this year is out.

“I was.” I reply slowly, tapping out the rhythm of my heart on his palm. “I was really scared of dying, and I thought that if I was scared then I might fight harder and beat this… thing inside of me.” I touch my chest with my other hand and wince. “But now I’m not scared. I know I’m going to die, and I’m okay with it.” Merlin’s face falls into a slight shadow and I tug on his hand. “I just don’t want to leave all of this behind.”

“What do you mean?” His fingertips run up my wrist slightly, caressing the warm skin for a moment.

“I’ll miss it.” I reply simply, shielding my face from the glare of the sun as we round a bend. “I’ll miss fighting with Gwaine and Percival, I’ll miss Leon ordering me to go places and our pub crawls where we got hideously drunk. I’ll miss Morgana and my dad, and I’ll probably miss Gwen some too.” I pause but he interjects.

“And me?” There’s almost a resignation that I won’t miss him, that he’s never counted and I never really cared about him. I sigh and drag a hand over my face.

“You’re the hardest to leave behind.” He tries to speak but I place a finger over his lips. “Because I’ve known you forever. Because you were my friend when no one else was, because you’ve been with me every single step of the way and because I’ve fallen asleep to the sound of your voice when nothing else would calm me down.” I close my eyes for a moment. “Because you love me unconditionally, and I wanted to feel that before I died. But now it just hurts, because I have to leave you behind, but take some of your heart with me when I go.” I’ve said my piece now, I’ve spoken the words out loud. Except for three.

“Oh.” He says softly, and I nod, lacing our fingers again. “I don’t want you to go.” He says after endless minutes of silence, and the words are so quiet that if I wasn’t straining to hear I would have missed them completely.

“I wish it were that easy.” I reply, leaning on his shoulder in silence once more. The rest of the group are waiting, so we speed up and meet them. No one says anything about Merlin and I, and nothing changes.

* * *

 

As I lie in my sleeping bag that night, I feel Merlin shift in his sleep. Earlier we’d rested beside the fire and talked, the whole group, swapping stories like we used to. _There are good last days_ I’d whispered to myself, gazing at the stars and watching the moonlight slant over Merlin’s features. His hand rests on my shoulder and I roll over with effort, watching him sleep.

“Arthur?” His voice is thick with sleep, eyes closed tightly.

“Mhm?” I hum in reply, stroking his dark hair back from his face.

“I want… I’ve always wanted to…” I wait patiently, toying with the dark hair on the top of his head idly. “I don’t know if you’ll be strong enough for it.”

“I’m not dead yet.” I reply, my voice laced with tiredness now. “Not yet.”

“We should have sex.” He mumbles, fingertips ghosting over my wrist.

“Not now.” I whisper, pressing my body against his. “But… before I die, I’d like that too.” He nods against the curve of my neck.

“Tomorrow?” His voice has a lilt of a joke, but I know that I won’t be going home. I nod.

“Tomorrow. Now get some sleep.”


	5. Not Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He glares at me like I’ve just crawled out from under a rock and throws the cloth back at me once he’s clean. It lands on my knee, the toothpaste staring innocently up at me from the folds of the flannel. I smile and stand, instantly crumpling and hating myself for it. I brush off their help and get up myself. I might be weak, but I’m not dead. Not dead. Not yet.

I wake and Merlin gives me pills again, our normal routine. We kiss when it gets light and for a few moments I hold him closely. If we keep going at this pace we’ll reach Avalon tonight, and his world will begin to end as mine does also. I sit there beside him as I wait for the others to wake, my hand gently wrapped around his wrist. He turns to me and smiles that stupidly endearing smile that always tugs on my fucking heart, and I say nothing, I just kiss him so that I don’t have to see it, don’t have to hear his voice.

“It’s nearly over, Arthur.” He says softly against my hand, almost so that I can’t hear it. Absurdly, I feel tears well up in my eyes and I try not to sob viciously into his shirt, collapse and ruin myself before I’ve had the chance to do it on my own terms.

“I know.” I whisper back, trying not to cry. It’s absurd. I was a strong man before all of this, before I got sick and before I let myself go. He seems to sense this again in that stupid way that he does, and he slides an arm around my shoulders and squeezes.

“It’s okay not to be ready.” He breathes against my shoulder, and I’m not sure if he means not to be scared by impending death or the end of the friendship that has carried us this far. I nod and cuddle up against him because I don’t want him to think that I’m frightened by the end, that I’m scared everything is ending.

“I’m ready.” I whisper and I know he doesn’t hear me, judging by the way he strokes my hair back from his face and places a kiss on my lips. I bask in these brief moments of complacency, in the warmth buzzing through his body. I lean against his shoulder and watch as the others wake up, groaning a little.

“What the fuck have you done to my face you dick!” Gwaine yells when he wakes fifteen minutes after the others, his face covered in toothpaste from one of Percival’s ‘good ideas’.

“I think you look better.” I offer with a smirk and throw a cloth at him so he can clean himself up. He glares at me like I’ve just crawled out from under a rock and throws the cloth back at me once he’s clean. It lands on my knee, the toothpaste staring innocently up at me from the folds of the flannel. I smile and stand, instantly crumpling and hating myself for it. I brush off their help and get up myself. _I might be weak, but I’m not dead. Not dead. Not yet._

* * *

 

I walk most of the day until I can’t any more, until every step is a searing pain throughout all of my body and I drop to the ground, Merlin’s arms no longer strong enough to keep me upright. Leon kneels beside me and brushes my hair back from my face, subtly checking my temperature and watching my face twist in pain.

“Morphine…” I choke out and it’s Percival who sits with me and hands me the bottle, placing a hand on my shoulder to keep me upright. I reach out a hand to Merlin and he takes it, Gwaine dropping to my side so that we’re all sat on the floor. I hold Merlin’s hand tightly in my own until the pain stops, until it makes it go away, in a burn of gold light. Merlin’s touch is like magic, soothing and calming, stroking and offering comfort to my tortured body.

“Better?” Percival murmurs as he stands and helps me up, holding his hand out to me. “Here, I’ll carry you. We’re almost there.” I nod, I’m too tired to fight and Percival is strong enough to carry me. I nap on his shoulders as he carries me towards our destination. Every time I wake, I feel Merlin’s eyes on my back.

* * *

 

Avalon. My favourite place. The lake that curls around the hill and the mystic column on top that we once swam to and spent the day exploring. It was empty, almost sad. Merlin and I had sat on the hill with Leon, watching Gwaine and Percival set off fireworks, sharing a bottle of cider and smiling at nothing. I miss how easy it used to be, I miss how safe and comfortable we were then, before I got sick. I sense Merlin’s sadness from where I’m sat and I drag myself up, taking the time to walk to him and sit beside him.

“Hey.” I whisper, taking his hand and leaning against him as we look out over the misted water, the column of stone casting a long shadow over the grass and the glittering pool in front of us.

“Hello.” He says, his voice scratchy. I almost sob at how sad he is and I lean against him, offering him a light kiss to his mouth, sliding my fingers into his hair. “Arthur…” I pull away and place my hand on his cheek, taking a deep breath.

“Merlin no… I need to… Merlin please listen to me.” I gaze at him. “I’m dying. I’m dying and I want to be yours, I want you to know how I feel because I’m emotionally stunted and I don’t know how to do things like this.” I sigh and remember how to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. “And I want you.” I sigh and kiss him again. “I want to have sex with you now, because if I don’t we won’t and I’ll be too sick for this. I’ll die and I’ll have never been able to have given you all I want to.” I close my eyes and wait for the repulsion.

“I understand.” Comes the reply, and he kisses me hard on the mouth. “I understand.” I’m pleasantly high from the morphine, nothing hurts and I feel safe now. I gaze up at him and he seems to ask permission to kiss me now. I nod.

“One minute.” I whisper and hobble away, returning to him with a bottle of cooking oil from one of the bags, no one had noticed or said a thing about it. I kneel in front of him and he nods. He tips my chin up and kiss me, and where his fingers touch me my skin feels like it’s on fire.

“Lie back.” He whispers into my ear and I do, lying on his coat. It’s comfortable because I can’t feel anything else other than his hands, the burn of his skin on mine consuming me in its flame. I didn’t notice his fingers between my thighs until one’s inside me, the oil easing his passage. I lie back and stare at the stars flickering above as he pushes another finger inside me. It hurts, but less than the tumours under my skin hurt, less than the entire flood of pain that is a constant for me now. Three fingers and a shudder of pleasure runs through me. I close my eyes and arch up, hand sliding into his hair.

“I’m sure.” I whisper before he pulls away and stops, I recognise that look in his eyes. He nods and kisses me, scorching on my normally ice cold skin. I slide my hands into his hair as he pushes inside me, the burn coupled with the fire that he already sends through me comfortable. The pressure is less so, but I acclimatise soon enough. This is the only time I have felt whole this entire trip. I look up at him and he’s smiling that goofy, adorable smile. I nod and he drops kisses on my face as he moves inside me, brushing a part of me I never knew existed until now and I see stars.

I don’t last long, coming apart under his ministrations with a broken, choked out sob of his name. He finishes inside me, leaning down to kiss me. I don’t hurt, I don’t feel anything except this fire in my veins and I feel a few tears slide down my cheeks.

_I’m not ready to give this up. Please don’t make me._

His fingertips brush my chest and I pull him to me, pulling him into my arms and breathing in his scent, remembering how this feels for one more moment. I close my eyes and kiss his hair.

“I love you.” I whisper into his ear and cling to him.

 _I’m alive. I’m alive._ My brain whispers.

My faltering heart counteracts this statement and I feel it ticking my life away.


End file.
